The internet doesn’t give away much
about Brian Banks. The booklet for this
release tells us that he hails from
Seattle, and is currently living and
working in Mexico after collecting numerous
prestigious prizes on the way. It also
says that he is "a composer trained
in the ‘contemporary music tradition’",
which can mean almost anything these
days, and is in fact almost a contradiction
in terms. The eclectic mix of styles
in the music is reflected in Banks’
interest in jazz and traditional styles
such as klezmer and flamenco.
The three Piano Sonatas
on this disc were all written for the
pianist who has recorded them, Geoffrey
Burleson. The Piano Sonata No.1 is
less a sonata as a set of character
pieces, introducing Banks’ predilection
for gamelan sounding scales in the twee
sounding movement ‘Metric Misdemeanours’,
which is nonetheless a fascinatingly
compressed fantasy of extremes. The
third movement, Maestoso, has
some nice counterpoint in a cross between
quasi-Bach and semi-Shostakovich, and
the piece is topped off by a raunchy
Blues.
Simplified scales are
let rip in a set of five compositional
and pianistic studies called Five
Pentatonic Preludes. None of these
go much beyond a minute and a half,
and there is a great deal of sparse
invention and exploration of colour
and nuance. The ghosts of late Liszt,
Schubert and Janacek flit through the
first three. The fourth Andante is
more what one might expect, with that
inescapable oriental association at
work, as is the case with the final
compact little stab of glory; An
Estampie for Lou Harrison.
The Piano Sonata
No.2 has a generally more introverted
feel, with a central improvisatory Psalm
framed by a poignant opening Prelude
and a strong final Postlude,
the former infusing the soulful melodies
of klezmer and blues, the latter approaching
something like les cloches engloutie.
The opening of the Psalm is less
what one might expect, having the kind
of relentless rhythmic drive and restricted
range of notes which is a kind of cross
between Messiaen and Keith Jarrett.
A more hymn like chorale develops later
– G.I Gurjieff with interruptions. This
builds later more towards Respighi in
stained-glass mood mixed with gospel.
I have my doubts about this movement,
but then, life is full of doubts.
Piano Sonata No.3
begins each movement with an ‘optional
improvisation’, the length of each being
given, so we know where the written
music begins. Geoffrey Burleson is very
good at exploring the tonalities and
scales used in each movement, and certainly
serves the pianism in all of these pieces
very well indeed. With some of the tinges
of jazz and plenty of open intervals,
this has some of the most American sounding
music amongst these pieces. The final
set of Port Townsend Preludes are,
in the words of the performer, ‘lovely,
unpretentious and captivating.’ Written
in a deliberately straightforward and
deceptively simple idiom, these would
be as nice an introduction to new piano
music as I could imagine for any student.
Depending on your expectations,
this will either enthuse you, or drive
you up the wall. Brian Banks speaks
with an honest voice and a directness
of expression which has its own innate
appeal, but you have to be in tune to
some of his points of reference, and
prepared to sympathise with his treatment
of them. The music is certainly not
dull, but neither is it particularly
challenging or demanding of the listener
– depending of course on your experience
as a listener. I suppose what I miss
is that big ‘wow’ factor of discovery,
the one that goes beyond technical brilliance
and vivid invention, the one which stamps
its muddy feet all over your soul and
leaves you a changed person. All in
all however, this is a superb release
which demands a wide audience. Centaur’s
piano recording is excellent as ever,
and the piano in the Patrych studios
still has that twangy note in the upper
register which is turning into something
of an old friend after living with it
through an entire cycle of Messiaen.
Dominy Clements